Burnt cookies
by Fuzzy footie pajamas
Summary: Oliver wants a baby. He always has. Someone to love and who will love him back forever and always. He cannot conceive one, and hasn't the time or means to find a lover. So, he decides to go for the next best thing. He certainly hopes that Francois likes the taste of formula. Forced ABDL/Age regression, Omutsu/diapers, spanking, mentions of depression, Abtalia
1. Burnt Cookies

**A warning. This story is a lot darker then anything I've written before. Forced ABDL, omutsu, sissification, and things of that nature. But there are also strong mentions of depression, drugs, and deprivation. I wouldn't say this is an experiment. But I guess I just felt like doing something a bit different then what I usually do. If you can't handle this sort of thing, then please read something else, or leave my page. Whichever you'd like better. Have a nice day!**

'For goodness sake, where is that bloke?' Oliver stared out the window, watching the sidewalk carefully. This evening was going to prove to be very special, and he didn't want to have to wait a single second longer! Today, Francois was coming by~ It taken a good deal of convincing to get him to come over, but he had finally managed it! He had something he wanted to show him today. Something very special. Something Oliver had been preparing for months on end. And it was finally time to show him! Oliver sighed wistfully as he leant against the window frame. Today, he would finally be obtaining something he had longed for, for such a long time. And that something, was a baby! Oliver smiled a bit as he thought about it. A little one who depended on him for everything, and loved him unconditionally. It was just so darling to think about. But there was just one teensy weensy little problem. One that would certainly get in his way.

Oliver was male. He could not conceive a child by himself. He needed a lover. But he imagined no girl would take too kindly to only being taken in to bare a child. He had done a lot of thinking over the past few months about what to do. And he came to realize something. He could still make a baby if he wanted to. Just...not in the traditional sense. All he needed, was a willing participant. It wouldn't be a real baby of course, and he knew that. But when he thought about it a bit more, perhaps this would be just a bit better then an actual baby! He wouldn't have to worry about them growing up, and he wouldn't have to put up with certain expenses or the stress that often came with being a father. All he had to worry about was keeping his little one fed, clean, and happy. Wouldn't this just be grand? But of course, there was one more teensy weensy little problem. He realized that. No one in their right mind was likely going to agree to help him out. So he was going to have to take matters into his own hands. So now, it was just a matter of being patient. François would be here any moment now.

He didn't have to wait too much longer thankfully. The dirty-blonde man came down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, and not really looking anywhere in particular. Oliver jumped to his feet and hurried to open the door, waving him over. "There you are silly! Do you know how long you kept me waiting?" He called to him. François shook his head as he approached him.

"You couldn't have just waited for me? Why do you have to shout while I'm still twenty feet away from your house?" he asked. Oliver chose not to answer, only smiling widely. So Francois only sighed. "Anyways, what was it you were wanting to show me?"

"Right! Just follow me, and you'll see soon enough!" Oliver tried to take Francois's hand, but he was quickly shaken off. So Oliver just shrugged it off for now and let François down the hallway. Grumpy as usual he was. Perhaps that was one of the main reasons he chose him for his little 'experiment.' He didn't often hold conversations with him, because he always secluded himself from everyone. He was such a sour fellow, he always had been. Yet, for some reason, Oliver always found himself staring. He wanted to turn that frown, upside down. He could still clearly remember those days spent, gazing over Allen's shoulder as those spoke with one another, just staring at the quiet man. He couldn't help but wonder why he had such a negative view on the world. Well, whatever the reason, maybe Oliver could improve that sour attitude. At least he could try!

"So, I've been working on a little something for awhile. Something just for you! As sort of a...present you might say."

"Oh? What's the occasion?" François asked, glancing around the house. He hadn't really been here in awhile.

"Mmm, it's hard to say," Oliver hummed, hoping to avoid the question. "I suppose it's a bit of a 'cheer-up' present. Something to help you." He giggled. "Well, actually, I suppose you're helping me, more then I'm helping you. I hope that's not too selfish."

Francois raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean? What sort of present is this? What is a 'cheer-up' present?"

"Um...you'll find out soon enough. Just be patient," Oliver said. "That's enough questions for now okay? I don't want you ruining the surprise!" Francois shook his head. In all honesty, he didn't know what to expect. Oliver could be a bit unpredictable at times. Sometimes, he was so annoyingly cheerful, everything made him smile, and he ignored all the bad things. And other times, he was strongly moody. He wore a pout on his face all day, and almost nothing could make him happy again. He could never predict what would trigger these mood swings. It was rather concerning. Not because he cared about Oliver's wellbeing, but more so because he hated what resulted from these mood swings. When he was happy, he seemed to expect everyone else to be. He tried to encourage everyone to smile just as he did. And when he was in a foul mood, it seemed like everything annoyed him. And he didn't care about anyone or anything. It was too irritating. Francois scratched his chin. As of late, he had noticed something. These pouty moods seem to come by a bit more often then they had before. Two times a week almost, which was fairly out of character for him. Well, he supposed it was better then him being so God damned happy all the time.

"I think..." Oliver suddenly said. "Yes, I think I should explain myself just a bit before I show you your present dearest," he hummed. "Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll be so terribly confused." Oliver's smile was wide and his eyes glimmered with eagerness. It would seem he was more excited to show Francois, then he was to see it. "I'm not sure if you've noticed lately, but I've been just a little...out of sorts lately," Oliver began.

"Have you now? I didn't realize," Francois said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. Oliver just giggled in return.

"Silly. Anyhow, I'm afraid I've had quite a bit on my mind lately. That's been the cause for my rather uncouth mood as of late. But I think with your help, I'll be able to feel a bit better. More like myself again!"

"I thought this was a 'cheer-up' present for me," François pointed out.

"Oh it is, it is!" Oliver insisted. "Well, I suppose it's more of a present for me, and for you. It will make us both happy!"

"What made you think I was unhappy?"

"Oh come now, it's written all over your face!" Oliver huffed. "You've always had such an awful perspective on the world, and it's so terribly depressing," he frowned a little and tried to take his hand again. But once again, he was shooed away. "Don't think I haven't noticed, you've been even more gloomy then usual lately. Why is that?" He didn't answer. "Well...in any case! Whatever the reason, I'm sure I'll be able to bring a big smile to your face today! So long as you give me the chance, alright?"

François only shrugged. He knew he had been acting off lately. He didn't really think there was too much of a reason behind it though. Or, nothing that could be easily explained to someone like Oliver anyways. He sighed a bit, already in a foul mood. Well, as soon as Oliver was finished with him, he could head on home anyways. So the sooner he showed him the present, the sooner he could get out of here. After a little bit, Oliver paused in front of a door. "Here we are! Right behind this door, is the little present I made just for you~ I hope you like it!" And then, he opened the door to show him what lie behind it.

Francois had to take a moment to take everything in. What in the world was all this? Behind the door, Oliver was showing him what looked to be a nursery. A nursery with a pink and white theme all around. A large crib with white wood, with a matching white dresser, and what looked to be a changing table, with a soft and pink covering on the top. A cabinet with glass doors was off to the side, and inside, he could see what looked like diapers. With little pink or purple designs and other such things. The crib had lots of stuffed animals inside of it and a soft blanket. Hanging above it, was a little mobile of rabbits. And decorating the walls were wall stickers, little things like unicorns and Hello Kitty. It looked like a nursery for a bay girl. Or...maybe not a baby. The crib and changing table looked much too big for someone as small as a baby. They could slip through the bars, or fall from the table. So then, this was by no means for a baby. And for a moment, he was confused. But slowly, he began to put the pieces together.

He heard the door shut behind him, and warily turned around. "Oliver? What is this?" he asked.

"Do you like it? I made it all by myself!" Oliver said proudly as he stepped closer. "It's your very own nursery Francois!" He chuckled softly. "Like I said before, your helping me, just as I'm helping you! You see dearest, remember how I told you I've had quite a bit on my mind lately?" Oliver asked. "Well, I'll tell you what that something was~ You see, I think I've been having a bad case of empty-nest syndrome. Even since Allen grew up, it's been terribly lonely. I wanted a chance to fill the house with laughter once again! I found it terribly disappointing how independent a child Allen was when he was young. Even as a tot, he never asked or wanted for much. He did so much all by himself." Francois felt a chill go up his spine when he saw how he grinned. "He was such an ungrateful child he was. As soon as he didn't need me anymore, he flew from the nest without looking back. Not that he needed much in the first place anyhow. That's not what raising a child is all about! Or, at least not to me it isn't."

"Well it's a shame you weren't happy. But what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Well if you would listen silly, you would find out," Oliver chuckled. "It's not that I wasn't happy. I was just a bit disappointed is all. And I suppose it's gotten me a bit down as of late. I know Allen grew up quite awhile ago. But still, I've never stopped thinking about it." Oliver sighed wistfully. "Ever since he grew up, I knew I wanted to be a daddy again. But I wanted things to go just a little differently. For once, I want someone to depend on me. Need me and stay with me. I know I could make my baby so happy! I'd be a great daddy! I wanted a baby more then anything. But as you know, it wouldn't be east to get one." He smiled widely. "And that's where you come in!"

Francois had a bad idea as to where this was going. Surely Oliver didn't plan to do what he thought he was planning on doing. "How? I can't give you a baby, you know that as well as I do."

"That's not true!" Oliver said. "Well...partially not true anyways," he shrugged. "I told you I wanted to make you happy right? Well, whose happier then a baby? I suppose what I'm trying to say is that, I want you to be my baby François!" he said, spreading out his arms with a flourish. As though this was the grand reveal. "Let me take care of you François. We'll have such a wonderful time! I'll do everything! I'll give you wonderful food and something new to wear every single day! You don't have to worry about work or the other nations. Nothing at all! You can just leave everything to me."

"As tempting as that may sound," François said sarcastically, "I'm going to have to decline. I have no interest in that sort of a thing. I don't care what sorts of things you do in your spare time, or what kinds of things you're into. But don't try and drag me into them," he said calmly. He made it clear that he wasn't interested. But Oliver frowned.

"Oh come now. Don't go and put all my hard work to waste. I spent so long putting this together. Just for you!" He ran his fingers along the white wood of the crib. It was only then that François noticed the old cuts on his fingers. Had those come from building this place.

"Well, you're going to have to find someone else. Why don't you ask Flavio, or Matt?" he offered.

"Haha, you're willing to sacrifice you're own son for me?" Oliver asked.

"Please, you know he isn't my child. He was my underling. That's all."

"It would seem you and I have different views on our little ones huh? Allen was my child, and Matt was your underling huh? I wonder if that's why you don't like the idea of this. You just don't have a good view on family in general. Or, you simply don't care about it at least."

"No," François sighed with a shake of his head. "Frankly, I just think this whole this is ridiculous. It has nothing to do with my view on family. You're looking at things much too deeply. Idiot." Oliver ignored his insults, laughing softly.

"Well, whatever the case, this is going to help you feel very good~ So, why don't we get you into a nice little nightie, and a nappy as well. Then we can give you your supper, and afterwards, it's bedtime! If you're a good boy, you can have a story as well before you go to sleep. Won't that be just grand?"

"For you maybe. I've already told you, I have no interest in this sort of a thing. So you can just asks someone else." Oliver viably began to wither at his words. The little fantasy he had put together in his head, the sanctuary he had created, was being taken apart.

"B-But wait! You can't just say no without giving me a chance! I worked so hard on this! I did all of this for you! Please, you can't just say no!"

"Just watch me," Francois said, sounded irritated. He shook Oliver off when he grabbed his shoulder, and walked to the door. He let himself out of the nursery. Oliver sighed sadly. He had a bad feeling this would happen.

' _That Francois. He speaks like he can intimidate people. It's about time he learned a lesson in manners. Or at least learn to be grateful for the blessings he is given.'_ Oliver approached the dresser and opened the top drawer. He had something in here that was for a scenario just like this. ' _I really didn't want to have to do this. But he leaves me no choice. This is all for his own good after all. He'll be thanking me later.'_

François went down the stairs, and towards the front door, searching his pockets for his lighter. Leave it to Oliver to waste his time like this. He had always been a rather annoying person. He had enough of this crap. He paused just outside the door as he hunted around in his pockets. Where in the world was that damned lighter? He wasn't aware of Oliver, quietly sneaking up on him from behind. He heard a soft sorry, and was about to turn around. But before he could, an arm went around his head, and something was placed over his nose and his mouth. There was a rather pungent odor on the cloth, and he squirmed. He couldn't recognize this, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut. Was he trying to know him out?! Was this chloroform?! François began to struggle, trying to break free from his grip. But Oliver was determined. Oliver knew, contrary to popular belief, it didn't take simply a single inhale to knock someone out. It took a few minutes of breathing it in to do so. So he braced himself against his struggle, keeping one hand over the cloth, and his other arm around François's neck. It was a bit difficult, as François was a bit taller then him. But he did his best. He wasn't about to let his hard work go to waste. Oliver began to stumble a nit as he thrashed. A side table was knocked over, and a vase dropped to the ground, spilling water across the carpet. His heel slammed into the wall, making him cry out. And Francois even managed to grab at his pale colored hair. Oliver winced as a few strands were torn from his scalp.

Before long, he could feel his struggling becoming easier to resist, and his body grow more and more limp. He stopped shouting, and his violet eyes rolled to the back of his head. And before long, his body grew slack against Oliver's, motionless. Oliver panted softly as he supported his limp body, trying to catch his breath. Goodness, if he would just listen to him and come along quietly, none of this would have happened. He dropped the cloth to the ground, and place both arms under François's arms. "Goodness, aren't you slender?" Oliver chuckled as he dragged him away. "I'm sorry things had to be this way. But please understand, this is for your own good. This will help you, I promise. You'll see, I know you will. Just you wait François Everything is going to be okay."

That evening, as the moon rose high into the sky to greet the stars, Oliver found himself standing in the nursery once again. He leaned on the railing, peering inside at the little one inside. He kept François out for the rest of the afternoon as he got him properly dressed. He was too tired to make dinner afterwards, so he decided to leave it for now. So now, Francois rested inside the white crib. The only light in the room, was the illumination that came from the moonlight coming in through the window, past the soft curtains. The light just barley made the young man inside the crib visible. Soft, white, and large mittens with pictures of kittens on them over his hands, tied close with a ribbon. A soft, and dark blue footed sleeper rested on his slender body, with a soft nappy underneath. A blue pacifier was in his mouth, and held there with a blue ribbon, tied around his head. It was almost like he was in restrains. But...cute ones~

Oliver took the pink comforter, and tucked it around his body. Then, he kissed two of his fingers, and gently pressed them against his forehead. "Sleep tight lovely," he whispered, careful not to wake him. "I promise, tomorrow is going to be so much better then today was. We'll have fun, just the two of us. I just pray that you'll be a good boy for me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Apologies! I've been really caught up** **with school, work, internships, and my own mental health, so I haven't been around much to update anything lately. I hope this will please some of you until the next chapter!**

When the sun began to stream through the curtains, it didn't wake Francois right away. It took a little while for the sun to really light up the room and make him stir. His memories from the other night were terribly hazy, and he felt so terribly light-headed. He kept his eyes closed, fighting off the waves of nausea that washed over him. Why did he feel so sick? Did he have a bit too much to drink? Did he stay up too late? Or eat something funny? No. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember very much about yesterday at all. When did he even get home the other day anyways? He kept still, and kept his eyes shut. He was in no rush to rise right now, so he would take his time. Now, what in the world happened the other day? He could recall coming to see Oliver, and then him making that wretched suggestion. Being his baby, ugh. What was he thinking anyways? But, now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember much past that. He remembered trying to leave, and then...what happened after that? He felt like he might have passed out. He knew he was forgetting something too though. But what was it? He just couldn't remember. When he finally started to feel a bit more like himself again, he slowly opened his eyes.

A white ceiling, barely visible through his blurred vision. He coughed, but it was muffled by something foreign. He crossed his eyes in an attempt to see what it was, but he couldn't seem to look down far enough. He raised an eyebrow, and brought up a hand to get it out. When he did, he found that while he could move his fingers, their mobility was still very limited. He held his hand before his eyes, and could see the strange and big mitten covering it. He was certainly more then a little confused. What was going on here? He sat up, and held both hands before his face. Both were covered in the big mittens, rendering his hands useless. He looked up, taking a moment to fully become aware of his surroundings. Was this a nursery? Wait, this wasn't just any nursery. With a sinking heart, he came to realize that this was the nursery Oliver had been offering him. Oh no. Now he knew what was happening here. He knew all too well what was happening. Looking himself over, he could see the dark blue footed pajamas, and felt the crinkly and soft thing against his bottom. Did Oliver put him into a diaper?! Was he serious?

François's cheeks were pink as he attempted to remove the gloves from his hands by untying the ribbons. But with his hands being incapacitated, he couldn't do a thing. He couldn't even undo the latch on the crib in order to let himself out. What was going on?! In his struggle, he made a bit more noise then he intended to, affectively alerting Oliver.

He froze when he heard the door open. Someone entered the little room, and approached the crib. "François! Good morning sleepy-head~ I kept on checking on you and checking on you, I almost thought you'd never wake up! Did you sleep well sweetheart?" François tried to say something, but the rubber object prevented him from saying a thing. "Oh, silly me! Can't very well speak to daddy with your dummy in the way him?" He reached into the crib, and loosened the ribbon around his head, that held the pacifier in his mouth. Once he finished, and the pacifier now dangled down to François's chin, he smiled widely. "There we go! Isn't that much better?"

"What are you playing at?" François demanded. "What you are doing? It is kidnapping, and harassment. When the police hear about this, they will-" He didn't get any farther then that however. Oliver sighed and popped the pacifier right back into his mouth.

"Tut Tut. What a chatterbox you are," Oliver tsked. "Especially after you've just woken up. Rest your voice for now why don't you?" Oliver folded his arms on the bars of the crib, resting his chin on his arms. He had a bit of a tired, yet satisfied expression on his face as he watched François attempt to remove the pacifier. "My, aren't you the cute one?" Oliver chuckled, watching the poor thing struggle. "But quite the naughty little one as well don't you know? Do you realize how much trouble you caused me yesterday? Getting you all dressed and padded up wasn't a walk through the park you know? Honestly, even as you slept, you gave me such a hard time. I suppose I was lucky that you had a somewhat slender frame." Oliver huffed. "And yet you're quite a bit taller then me as well! God can be quite unfair!"

François stared up at him in disbelief. Oliver was going to chastise him for something like this? Oliver shook his head a bit and began to lower the bars. "Well, I've kept you waiting long enough. Let's get started with our morning shall we? I've prepared a yummy breakfast for you, and it's waiting for you in the dining room. But first, we should get you into your day clothes. Also, I should make sure your nappy is nice and dry," Oliver hummed. "Come along darling." Once he had lowered the bars, he reached into the crib to lift him up. But François was not going to allow him do this so easily. Oliver held him as tight as he could, but it didn't help him much.

François began to kick, and flail his arms in an attempt to make him let go. Oliver stumbled a bit, but he kept as steady as he could. "My. I've never seen you this animated before," Oliver managed to say. "But won't you be still for just a touch longer for me? I don't want to drop you now!" Oliver stumbled a bit, and ended up practically dropping his little charge onto the changing table. Oliver huffed and placed his hands on his hips. "You're not going to make dressing you very easy. I suppose you'll have to keep your pajamas on for right now. But we do need to check your nappy. Now, lie down for-" he was interrupted by his own little boy, who was quite frankly, not happy. Francois, who was still trying to get down, managed to bring a foot up, colliding it with Oliver's soft cheek. Oliver grunted, and stumbled back, nearly loosing his footing. He held onto his cheek as François managed to get down. As soon as his feet hit the ground however, he also began to stumble.

Ah, what was this? A wave of dizziness washed over him, making him grip onto the changing table for support. He felt a bit sick. Perhaps this was the affect of the chloroform from before? He couldn't say for sure. Whatever the case, he didn't think he could escape on his own right now. He kept his head tilted to the ground, breathing heavily. His long years of smoking didn't help him any, only making it harder for him to get a good breath in. As he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to collapse, he could feel a rough hand suddenly grab him tight, and jerk his head upwards again. His eyes met Oliver's blue ones, brows furrowed in distaste. It was clear that Oliver did not appreciate the little kick he had been given, and was not happy. It was rare to see Oliver make such an expression. But it did happen now and then. And it was clear to him that he was not going to have a good time today.

"Listen here you bastard child," Oliver said harshly, making François flinch. He hadn't heard Oliver take this tone before, other then during Allen's childhood. So, all he could think to do, was quiet down and let Oliver take charge. "This is supposed to be our first day together. And it is supposed to be a special one. I will NOT allow a disobedient child ruin this for me." Oliver squeezed François's cheeks tightly, making François hiss in pain. "Do you understand me? I put so much time and work into this. Blood, sweat, and tears went into absolutely everything in this room. I did this all for you, what part about that don't you understand? So it was right kind of you to pay me back with a kick to the face wasn't it?" He sneered, rather sarcastic. "Why don't we start over, hmm? It's not going to get any easier from here if you continue to be so selfish. So, why don't you keep those kicking feet to yourself, and behave for daddy? Is that too much to ask for?" François didn't answer, more focused on not vomiting right there from the overwhelming feeling of vertigo. Neither of them spoke after that, but kept their eyes locked on one another, as though daring the other to make a move. But finally, a rather long minute, Oliver released François's cheeks and stepped back.

Oliver placed a hand up on a chest, and took a deep breath in and out. Then, he looked back at François. The difference in his expression, when compared to the one he had a moment ago, was like night and day. Once again, he had a sunny smile on his face, his gaze kind, despite how his cheeks were still a little flushed. "Ah, my darling, are you alright? You seem a bit unsteady," Oliver observed, seeing how François still staggered on his feet ever so slightly. "Well that simply won't do. Let's get you downstairs and fill that tummy hm? Perhaps you'll feel better if you eat a bit. Come with me~" Oliver approached him again, and lifted François up and into his arms, carrying him on his hip. François didn't seem to struggle this time, feeling rather bewildered and ill. "Mmm. You still smell slightly like baby powder don't you? Much better then usual. You always seem to smell of smoke and wine." Oliver giggled. "I'm going to assume that means your nappy is nice and dry yes?"

"Of course it is. I'm not a baby, no matter how badly you want me to be one," François scolded. Oliver decided to ignore his lip, only smiling as he walked out of the nursery. Down the halls, and down the stairs, Oliver carried his little charge. Francois was able to take a moment to really catch his breath, and evade the waves of nausea. He felt a bit better. Perhaps now, if he wanted to, he would be able to properly walk. Walk away from the situation, and back to his home, where he would no longer be made to put up with this. But...as strange as it sounded, he didn't know if he wanted to risk seeing that angry face again, and feeling his fingers, pinching his cheeks. He would just have to wait for the right time. He was as patient as he was able to be when Oliver placed him into the tall chair. And then...secured him in with a tray. Oh God. How had Oliver managed to put together a high chair big enough to suit him like this? For God's sake... Nothing like this could have been made overnight. Oliver truly had been planning this sick game for months hadn't he? That bastard.

Without missing a beat, Oliver picked up a little bowl from the table-top, and began to stir what was inside. "Now, I had a bit of a dilemma when trying to decide what to feed you. Something too hearty might upset your tummy. But I want to make sure you get enough to eat after all." Oliver tapped the side of the bowl with the little plastic spoon he had been using to stir it with. "I suppose I could only make assumptions in the end. Oh goodness, I'm not even sure how old you might be! I suppose I'll have to figure that out a bit later though. For now, let's focus on getting you fed okay?" From the bowl, Oliver scooped up a spoonful of whatever was inside with a small, plastic spoon. Unlike everything else, which was made to fit an adult, both the bowl and the spoon were tiny. Just like a proper infants feeding supplies would be. This was going to take forever wasn't it?

Inside the bowl, was something of a very bright red color, with the consistency of applesauce. It didn't have much of a scent to it, but it still made François's stomach turn. "Alright dearest. Open up the tunnel for the Choo-Choo train!" He offered the spoonful to his baby, but Francois was quick to turn up his nose, making Oliver tut. "Oh come now. It's yummy, you'll love it! There's strawberrys and apples and bananas! It's only fruit. You do like fruit don't you?" He didn't answer, making Oliver giggle. "Silly baby! Don't go being all picky on daddy now. I have a yummy bottle of milk waiting for you when you're all done!" He offered the spoon to his baby, but Francois turned up his nose once again, leaving Oliver to jab him in the chin with the spoon. "My poor thing. Even with daddy feeding you, you're getting all messy! You must be quite the little baby then!"

"Will you stop with your games? I am not a-" Oliver took this chance to pop the spoon into François's mouth, smiling at him.

"Hush now~ Babies don't speak silly! You're much too little for that!" Oliver hummed as he began to label up another spoonful, letting François swallow the sweet stuff. "Babies need not worry about a thing! Just leave everything to daddy! Being a nation is much too difficult isn't it? But now, you won't have to worry about a thing anymore! Daddy will feed you and dress you and clean you. I'll even change your nappies, Daddy doesn't mind at all! All you need to do, is be a good boy for daddy." Oliver chuckled a bit. "It would seem a lot of things used to be too hard for you. Being a nation, managing your appearance, coming to our parties, all sorts of things. You're a baby in more ways then you think Francois. You can't even break your own self-soothing habits like smoking and drinking. Like a baby addicted to their pacifier you know?"

"I can break my own habits whenever I wish. I just haven't had any reason to," Francois defended himself.

"Nonsense. It takes much more then willpower to break a bad habit. Especially something as horrendous as your habits. I'll make sure not another yucky cancer stick touches your lips. You can finally eat proper meals, and get a good nights sleep. All without the help of those...things." Oliver shuddered at the though of François's dependency. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

"I can take care of myself. I'm doing just fine on my own. I don't need you."

"Stop lying!" Oliver scolded. He slammed the bowl of fruit mush on the tray of the high chair. It was hard to tell whether he was angry or sad. These mood swings were taking him once again, changing his expressions drastically once again. "You're ruining your body and you're ruining your mind! You need me! Just like I need you! So you stop your lying!"

"I'm not lying to you. I'm alive aren't I? I'm taking care of myself just fine."

"Alive, and living are two different things. You just don't understand. You may be alive, but this is no way to live." Oliver sighed and picked up the bowl again, ignoring the red mush that had splattered into the tray when he slammed the bowl down. "It's too early in the morning to talk of sure things little one. Let's get breakfast all finished. Once you're all done, you can have some playtime. Once I've gotten you all set up with your toys, then I can take the mittens off your hands. But not a moment before," he said, managing to smile at him once again. He offered another spoonful, but François's tight jaw did not open. "This is going to be quite the process isn't it? Perhaps you aren't hungry at the moment. Well, thats alright. Let's get you your bottle instead. You have to have something in you anyhow. Just wait right there darling!" Oliver took the bowl with him as he escaped into the kitchen, leaving Francois to wait for him in the dining room. He doubted that the little one would be able to escape the tight hold the chair had, so he felt secure in leaving him there for now.

Once in the kitchen, Oliver took a moment to take a few deep and nothing breaths. "This is no good, no good at all. I cannot continue to loose my temper with him. He is only a wee thing after all. Oh am I being too hard on him? I surely hope not..." Oliver went and retrieved the babies bottle that had been waiting in the saucepan. He stared at it for a moment, letting his thoughts swirl about his head. "He's still trying so hard to be an adult. Which I suppose I can understand. He doesn't feel much like a baby yet. I'm trying my hardest to help him regress down, but it's just not working. So...perhaps I need to try a new tactic." Oliver set the bottle down on the counter, and began to browse through his top cabinet. "Oh I really didn't want to have to implement this today. It's so early. But if he is going to be difficult, then perhaps it is for the best, is it not? I only want what's best for him. But if he continues to make this difficult, I just don't know what I'll do..."

From behind the glasses, Oliver pulled out a small bottle he had been hiding there, for just in case. He had been hoping he wouldn't have to bring such things into this. but it would help Francois feel a bit...smaller, in a sense. It was hard to feel like a grown-up when ones nappy was all wet right? In Oliver's hand, was a small bottle of diuretics. These were water pills, which encouraged increased urine production, by extracting the water from ones body, and eliminating it. Of course he had planned for his little one to use his nappy from the very beginning. But he had hoped it would come naturally with time. With the way his little one was behaving though, he defiantly had his doubts. He twisted the lid of the bottle open, and dropped two pills into it, watching it get absorbed in the milk. Once he saw it disappear, he screwed the top back on, and gave the bottle a shake. "I do hate being dishonest," Oliver said to himself. "But...well, I can't deny that I'm curious. Poor darling..." The smile seemed to appear back onto his face rather quickly. "I wonder how he will take his very first nappy change~"

* * *

"Now now, please hold still for daddy! I might drop you!" Oliver said, stumbling as he tried to carry the fussy François from the dining room, to the sitting room, while keeping hold of the bottle as well. It wasn't quite easy to carry someone on your hip when they were struggling like this. But somehow, he managed. Oliver dumped his charge onto the couch, and promptly sat next to him. When Francois tried to jump to his feet and run, Oliver had no qualms in grabbing a handful of his dirty-blonde hair, and tugging it so he would sit back down. "Hot milk spoils faster my sweet. So lets get it all into your empty tummy so it won't go to waste! Now then, lie your head on daddies lap for me okay? I want you drink every last drop!" Francois writhed, and tried to get away, but Oliver still had a tight grip on his hair. "Like I said before, once you're all done, then you'll have your playtime. I've got lots of wonderful toys for you to play with! I've even put together a playpen for you in my room, so I can watch over you whilst I get some work done. Doesn't that sound lovely?"

When François didn't settle, Oliver only giggled. He sat back, and pulled François down into his lap, so his head was resting in his lap. He let go of his hair, and placed a hand on his forehead to keep him in place. "There we go! Isn't that cozy?~" he hummed, holding as tightly as he could, waiting patiently for his stubborn boy to ware himself out. "You know dear heart. If you just let daddy do what he needs to do, then this would all be over sooner." Well, that certainly got his attention. For a moment, Francois stopped struggled.

"You mean that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh of course! Just be good as do as I say for a little while. Do that, and it will be over a lot quicker, okay?" Of course that was a fib, and he knew it. The truth was, he didn't know how long he intended to keep François here. But he would much rather have a well-behaved baby, then a naughty little rebel any day! He could see François had a suspicious look on his face, but he chose not to comment on it.

"...Fine." François knew he was likely digging his own grave by simply agreeing with him. But really, he had no willpower to keep on fighting him like this. The sooner it was over, the better. He didn't know for certain if Oliver was lying. But the sooner he got into his good graces, the better.

"That's the ticket! Now then, open wide little one~" Oliver encouraged, brushing his lips with the bottle. François sighed, and opened his mouth for him, despite everything in him pleading to keep it shut. The nipple entered his mouth, and he had to resist the urge to clamp down with his teeth. Instead, he secured his lips around it, and gave an experimental suck. The moment he did, a spurt of the warm milk entered his mouth. François squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his stomach turn. Ugh, milk was so nauseating to taste. And making it all warm was even worse. He simply hated it. He squirmed, and tried to push the bottle away. But Oliver held it firmly in his mouth.

"Ah-ah! Be a good boy now. I want you to drink every last drop of your bottle now," he encouraged, giving the bottle a little squeeze to make the milk come out faster. Oliver could hear François's moaning from behind the nipple, but decided to ignore it for now. He could see milk dribbling down his cheeks, making him wonder if Francois was holding in a mouthful of milk. "My, what a messy baby you are! I'll have to remember to put a bib on you next time eh?" he said. He removed his hand from Francois's forehead, and poked one of his bulging cheeks with his finger. When he squeezed out a bit more milk, he could hear François gag, before swallowing the milk he was holding in his mouth. "Don't tell me you don't like milk! All babies like milk silly! Oh, and if you throw it up, then I have plenty more milk in the fridge. So we can always try again!"

When François realized that he wasn't joking, he was a lot quicker about gulping everything down. Rather then holding in mouthfuls of milk, he began to gulp it down, as though his life simply depended on it. "There we go, that's my good boy," Oliver soothed, smoothing down his hair. He frowned after hitting a tangle when he tried to run his fingers through his hair. Ugh, and it was a bit oily as well. "Honestly, when was the last time you washed your hair child?" Oliver chided gently. "I'll have to remember to give you a bath soon then. I wish I had noticed sooner, I would have washed you up first thing this morning." He gave a soft sigh, sounding a lot like an exhausted mother. "Well, I'll make sure to give you a bath before lunch. I shan't have a dirty child at the table, no sir."

For a moment, Oliver said nothing more. He only hummed as he watched the milk disappear from the bottle, down Francois's gullet. He couldn't help but wonder if he was truly going to be able to drink it all. Personally, Oliver could drink nothing but warm milk if he was given the chance. (Well, that and strawberry milk. One had to have a little variety after all!) But it was important that Francois drank as much as he was able to at least. So he could get the full affect of the medicine. Diuretics usually took about 1-2 hours to kick in and do their job, and the increased urine production could last around 6 to 8 hours. But, he planned to give him some of this medicine with each bottle, so the effects could last longer. Well not _every_ bottle. He worried about risking an overdose! So, perhaps twice a day was best instead then. One in the morning, and then one in the evening before bedtime. Hopefully it would have him waking up with a wet nappy. He wasn't sure yet. He had never tried this on anyone before, so he had yet to see their affects for himself. All he knew was that it would have him producing excess urine, and in larger amounts as well.

"Oh! Well would you look at that!" Oliver praised. "You drank it all up!" He removed the empty bottle from his lips and had a look at it. "Good boy darling! Such a good boy you are! I'm a very proud daddy~" François didn't answer, more focused on not vomiting all over himself. He raised one of his gloved hands and wiped at his mouth and chin, while Oliver removed the extra milk from his cheeks with a little handkerchief. Once his face was all clean, Oliver rubbed his coughing little one's chest. "Now then, why don't we go and have some playtime then hm? I've set up a playpen, and lots and lots of toys just for you! How does that sound?"

"I hate you..."


	3. Chapter 3

Well now...this wasn't any better than before now was it? After his feeding, Francois had been taken into Oliver's bedroom for his playtime. Sitting on the carpet, was a huge playpen, with green fabric, and mesh netting. The playpen was filled with toys like stuffed animals, rattles, and plush blocks, things of that nature. It was about half the length of a regular bed that would be in a master bedroom, and the width was just about the same. This looked a lot more like the sort of environment that Oliver would enjoy more than Francois ever would. "Here we are my sweet. Doesn't this look fun? It's all just for you!" Oliver encouraged. Francois chose to bite his tongue, rather than tell Oliver how he REALLY felt. Thankfully though, Oliver didn't push for an answer. Instead, he approached the playpen and set Francois inside. The bottom was lined with a soft, dark blue comforter, so his diapered bottom was cushioned even more than it already was. "Now then, as promised, let daddy remove your gloves hm? Just hold still for me." Oliver reached into the playpen, and gently undid the ribbons around Francois's wrists, before removing the gloves. As soon as his hands were free, he gave his fingers a few flexes, bending them and stretching them before his eyes. They thankfully weren't so sore because of the soft cushioning around them. But they were a bit stiff, having been in such a way all night.

"All comfortable?" Oliver asked as he peered inside the playpen. Francois just shot him a glare in response, not dignifying him with a proper answer. Oliver just giggled, and pat his head. "What do you think of your new toys? Do you like them? I picked them all out especially for you! If you're good, perhaps I could get you some new ones~ But for the time being, I do hope you have fun with these toys." Oliver reached into the playpen and picked up a stuffed bear, offering it out to Francois. When he didn't take it, however, Oliver simply placed it in his lap. "Aww, aren't you just a little cutie! I would love to simply take a picture of you! Would you mind?" Before Francois could answer, Oliver scuttled over to his closet to find his camera. Oh honestly. Oliver was the only person he knew who insisted upon still using a Polaroid.

While Oliver was away, Francois took a moment to scan his new surroundings. A big playpen, just for an adult. Why did he have this? Hell, why did he want to do this in the first place? Empty-nest syndrome was one thing. But this? This was something else entirely. It felt like some sort of a strange fetish, rather than a fix for his loneliness. Either way though, there had to be something he could do to help himself and get out of here. Francois reached up and grabbed the edge of the playpen, pulling himself up onto his knees. He didn't have enough time to try and climb out. He knew Oliver would be back in here before he could, and probably push him back in, or punish him once again. So, for the time being, he scanned his surroundings.  
Frankly, he was surprised to see a bedroom as plain as this, for a man as flamboyant as Oliver. It looked like an average adults bedroom. Well, other than the playpen. His eyes reached the bed, and he found himself cringing. There seemed to be just as many stuffed animals as there were pillows. Since there were already a lot of stuffed animals in the playpen, he could only assume that those stuffed animals belonged to Oliver instead. How childish. What made Oliver think he could take care of a baby when he himself couldn't give up his own childish possessions? Some of the bears looked rather worn with love. Some of them looked fairly new. How many bears were enough he wondered?

At the foot of the bed, were items that made him cringe even harder. Folded up on the bed, was a towel, and on top of that, was an open package of adult diapers. When he tilted his head a bit, he could read the label on the bag. 'ABU Lavenders.' Is that what he was wearing right now? Next to the package, was a small bottle of baby powder, baby wipes, and plastic pants. There was even what looked to be a folded up change of clothing. Oh honestly. Francois sighed and sat back down. He didn't want to see any more of that.

He could feel his fingers start to shake a little, and his irritation levels grow. It had been over ten or so hours, and he hadn't had a cigarette. He usually had one first thing in the morning before he ate. And he would have been working on his second or third by now. Come to think of it, he had been hunting for his lighter just before Oliver had knocked him out. And it was still light then too. So, perhaps it had been closer to twelve hours or more since his last cigarette. As much as it would be difficult to even attempt to quit, not that he had any intention to anyways, this nicotine addiction felt as though it would be the end of him. Perhaps he could convince Oliver to give him a break and let him smoke.  
Actually, now that he thought about it, what had Oliver done with his pack? Surely he didn't throw it away, did he? That thought alone seemed to irritate him even more. He wasn't used to being awake for so long without something in his system. Nicotine, alcohol, pills, that all seemed to make up about 60% of his 'diet' during the day. And frankly, he was starving.

By the time Oliver flounced back into the room, Francois was feeling rather cross. "Sorry to keep you waiting! The pesky camera was quite up high, I almost couldn't reach it!" Oliver giggled, holding up the camera for him to see. "Now then, let's have a nice big smile hm? Smile for the camera poppet!" he encouraged, holding the camera before him to get a good shot. But Francois only continued to frown, staring down the camera as a cat might. "Oh well. I suppose a pouty baby is much better than no baby right?" Oliver chuckled, snapping a photo of him. As the photo processed, Francois finally took a moment to speak.

"Where is my lighter?" he asked. Oliver tsked, but didn't look at Francois, more focused on the camera as he waited for the photo to come out.

"Why do you want to know? Lighter's aren't for babies, they are much too dangerous." As the photo streamed out, Oliver continued. "In any case, I've confiscated it. You won't be seeing another yucky cigarette for a good, long while." As Francois gawked, Oliver pulled out the picture and waved it about so it could appear. Once he was through, he smiled and showed it to Francois. "Look here! Isn't it nice? You're just the cutest little thing, my dear!" Francois pushed Oliver's hand aside, pushing the picture away as well.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well! Aren't you rude?" Oliver huffed. "Fine. If you must know, I have it here," Oliver said with a pout, walking over to his bedside table and opening the drawer. From inside, he pulled out a few things and set them on the table. Francois's purple lighter, his half-full cigarette pack, his white handkerchief, which was slightly stained, and a small deck of cards. All of the things that had been in Francois's pockets. "There, happy?" Oliver asked him. "I have your things right here. Get a good look at them, because you won't be having them back for a while." While Francois didn't speak, Oliver didn't miss that longing look on his face. "Honestly. You truly are just like a baby, you know that? Can't soothe yourself, and need to depend on other things for that. Well, don't you worry now! Daddy has just the thing for a little one like yourself!"

Olver reached into the still open drawer and pulled out a dummy, just a bit bigger than the average dummy. Just right for an adult-sized mouth. "You must have given yourself a terrible oral fixation, what with you sucking on those things all the time. Let's try and swap out the cigarettes for the dummy now, shall we? It's much better for you!" As he approached Francois, he tapped on his chin. "You know, I hear pacifiers are simply no good for one's teeth. But then again, your teeth aren't going to be too terribly altered anytime soon eh? And besides, you've likely ruined them all on your own haven't you?" Francois scoot himself backward, trying to evade Oliver. But, Oliver reached in and took Francois's chin, forcing his mouth open. "Tsk. Just as I thought," Oliver sighed as he looked inside. "All yellow. And your breath isn't too pleasant either really. You really haven't been taking very good care of yourself, have you? How sad." Francois couldn't tell if his look was one of sadness, or of pity.

"Well, no matter!" he sighed, before placing the dummy in his mouth, and then letting him go. "Daddy will take care of you now. So, don't you worry about a thing! Now, how does that dummy feel? Much better than a cigarette yes?" And before Francois could take it out, Oliver quickly reminded him, "If it's too difficult to hold in your mouth by yourself, we can always bring out the ribbon again if you need it." Francois was quick to change his mind, and keep it held firmly in his mouth. "That's my good boy~" As Oliver walked to the bed, it was only then that Francois noticed he was wearing some rather casual clothing. A pink t-shirt, just a bit too loose on him, and white pajama shorts. All of Oliver's clothing was all pink and white. But it was the first time that Francois had seen him in casual wear instead. Not a hair ribbon in sight today. "Now then," Oliver began, sitting down on his sheets. "You go ahead and play. Daddy's got some phone calls to make. After I'm all done, then I'll play with you okay?" Francois frowned, turning his head away. "Oh come now. You had best behave yourself, or you'll be in for a stern talking-to," Oliver warned gently, wagging his finger as though he were scolding a child. Which, in his mind, he was.

Francois rolled his eyes, and picked up a stuffed duck, as though to mimic the act of playing. Oliver picked up the phone off of the rotary, already planning out his day with his little one. What could they do after playtime? Or during playtime? Maybe Francois would fair well from some tummy time? He would have his clothes changed after playtime, so perhaps they could go out for a little while. Well, they would just have to see. But for now, he had some things to take care of. With a soft hum, he spun the small, white dial a few times, ticking out the phone number in his head. He had to talk to Lutz for a bit, and let him know he would be out sick for a little while, and couldn't come to the next conference. Or, the one after that perhaps. Knowing Lutz, he likely didn't care anyhow. But still, it never hurt to let him know!

While Oliver was sitting patiently on the bed, one leg crossed daintily over the other and waiting for Lutz to answer, Francois, tossed the duck to the side, uninterested to the highest degree. None of these toys appealed to him. None of this treatment did. He just wanted to go home. These soft pajamas were too warm, and the thick padding underneath made him feel even warmer. He supposed since his hands were free, he could strip down a bit and cool off. But the last thing he wanted was to be left in nothing but a nappy. So he just had to bear with it for now. If Oliver truly planned on making him stay in this playpen as he made his calls, then it was going to be a very boring time. He glanced back at Oliver, who had finally been answered. Oliver was animatedly chattering into the phone, greeting Lutz, and asking him how he was. If he was intended to feign illness, then he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Well, if his hands were free now, he had at least a little more freedom. But, what could he do with it anyway? He was stuck here. He quietly leaned against the mesh netting of the playpen, staring at the wall closest to him. Why didn't he attempt to escape in the first place? He supposed it was because he wasn't confident that he could yet. His hands were still shaky, his knees a bit weak, and he had no doubts that Oliver was faster than him. He didn't want to face whatever sick punishment Oliver came up with next. It would be wiser to just wait until he had his strength back before running away.

His eyes caught sight of one of the teddy bears Oliver had placed in the playpen. It's big, black, beady eyes were staring him down, making him feel...inferior, as silly as that sounded. Without much thought, and a flash of anger, he picked it up, and tossed it out of the playpen. It bounced against the wall and hit the floor. His action didn't warrant much of a response from Oliver, which didn't bother him much. But he couldn't deny that the action satisfied him, even a little. So, he decided that this itself was the best way to spend his time. One by one, the stuffed animals went flying from the playpen, hitting the wall and the floor. The most satisfaction came when one of them hit a framed picture of Oliver and Allen. But again, Oliver didn't respond. Perhaps Oliver didn't want to acknowledge bad behavior? When Francois glanced back at Oliver, he couldn't help but feel annoyed. Oliver wasn't even looking at him! He was simply dialing another number. Likely asking someone to pick up notes for him or something of the sort. Was he so distracted or ignorant that he simply didn't care what Francois was doing? As much as he wanted to deny it, something about it annoyed him.

"Flavio? Hello, there muffin!" Oliver said into the phone, acting as though Francois simply wasn't there. Oooh, that was it! If he wasn't going to notice him, then he might as well leave, right? Nothing was stopping him, right? Or, so he thought.

Holding onto the railing, Francois pulled himself up to his knees, and then to his feet. But, the moment he stood up, he suddenly heard a sharp snapping. He turned to see Oliver, staring disapprovingly at him. He pointed down, indicating that he wanted Francois to sit down. Francois didn't obey, simply glaring back at him. No way Oliver could do anything. "Flavio, I might just have to call you back dearest," Oliver said into the phone as he stood up. Or, maybe he could do something it would seem. Francois didn't hesitate to sit back down, relaxing a bit when he saw Oliver smile again. "Oh! Never mind dear! Nothing to worry about!" Oliver said happily, sitting back down on the bed.

Francois sighed, and leaned against the netting again, his back to Oliver. Well, now what? He had nothing left in the playpen other than a blanket, and well...himself. And he had no choice but to sit here until Oliver got him out. He had to wonder. Did Oliver not notice all of the things he had thrown out? Or did he simply not care? He considered just napping, for now, to pass the time. But he just felt too warm. This stupid nappy made him feel so suffocated. There would be nothing wrong if he just...took it off right? Glancing back at Oliver, he could see how distracted he was with the phone. He didn't seem to care. It's not like he was going to need the stupid thing anyhow right? Going commando didn't sound pleasant, and he imagined Oliver would eventually find out. But, it was better than being stuck in this stupid thing. Or, so he thought anyway. After one more quick glance, Francois unzipped the pajamas he had on as quietly as he could, keeping his body turned away from Oliver. Then, with the pajamas still on his body, but with the front undone, he undid the tapes of the nappy, and removed it, pulling it up and out of the pajamas. He bundled it up as best he could, and stuffed it under the blanket he was sitting on, before zipping up the pajamas snugly. All of this was done as quickly and as quietly as possible so he wouldn't alert Oliver.

Once he had finished the deed, he breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the netting once more. He took a moment to close his eyes and calm himself a little. He wasn't afraid of punishment, of course not. He just didn't want to deal with it was all. Once he felt calmer, he slowly turned his head and glanced over his shoulder.

His heart quickly dropped down to his stomach when he did.

Oliver was still sitting there, with the phone to his ear, and legs folded across one another. But he was staring right at Francois. He didn't look mad. But his face was simply unamused. His lips drawn into a flat line, and his eyes half-lidded at best. Not narrowed per-say, but simply a bit exasperated. "Thank you Flavio," Oliver simply said into the phone, his eyes never leaving Francois. "So I'll be seeing you then?... Wonderful. All right then. Bye-Bye." Then, without another word, Oliver placed the phone back on the receiver with a soft click. Afterward, he stood up and approached the playpen. Francois quietly braced himself for a scolding. But instead, Oliver began to gather up the toys Francois had thrown on the floor.

"Well now, this is certainly a fine way to get my attention," Oliver said, his voice not as chipper as before, but not unkind either. "Leaving a big mess for daddy to clean up. That wasn't very nice." Francois couldn't tell if he was purposefully not mentioning the nappy, or was simply daft, and hadn't noticed at all. Oliver gently placed each stuffed animals and rattles back into the playpen, acting as though nothing else was wrong. He then looked right at Francois, as though waiting for him to say something. Francois kept his legs pressed together, hoping that if Oliver didn't already know he had taken it off, then he wouldn't notice now. A silly idea he would admit, but still...

After a moment of silence, Oliver finally smiled at him, his eyes softening a bit. "Well, I can't blame you for growing impatient. It wasn't fair of daddy to keep you waiting like that now was it? Why don't we play on the ground together instead okay?" Oliver approached the bed, and picked up a soft, folded blanket, spreading out the pink fabric on the floor. Then, he picked up the toys that were in the playpen and set them on the blanket. "Daddy will play with you lovely. So you won't have to be lonely anymore." Oliver glanced at the toys for a moment, hands on his hips as he debated for a second. Then, he suddenly nodded. "Francois, daddy needs you to stay there for a moment. He needs to get something for you." Then, without another word, he suddenly left the room. Leaving Francois to sit in the playpen, and think about what had just happened. Oliver had certainly seemed...odd. Had he noticed, or hadn't he? Or, did he care for that matter? He couldn't say for certain. Either way though, he knew something had to be done before he could think of anything else.

Francois reached under the blanket and pulled out the clean, balled-up nappy. Then, he stepped out of the playpen and glanced around the room. He had to be quick, otherwise, he'd be in trouble. After some debate, he hurried to the bed and shoved the nappy underneath. It was a bit unkept under there, so he doubt it would be found until much later. Once he had done what he needed to, he climbed back into the playpen and sat down quietly. It didn't take too long for Oliver to come back after this. In his hand, was a baby's bottle of juice, and a casual smile on his much, much like the one he usually had. "There's my good boy," he said, sounding relieved that he was still there. He came over and popped the pacifier out of Francois's mouth, and handed him the bottle instead. Then, he helped him out of the playpen and to the blanket. The whole time, Francois kept his body turned away from Oliver as much as he could, so Oliver hopefully wouldn't be able to tell that he was without padding. The two of them sat together on the blanket, and Oliver began to arrange the stuffed animals. He was so fluid with his motions and placement, that Francois couldn't help but wonder if he had done this before. "Look! The animals are having a picnic now," Oliver said. "So, let's have one with them. I'll pour the tea okay?" Francois watched as Oliver mimicked the task of pouring tea into a teacup, despite the fact that he was not holding one. Francois only sighed.

"Will we be having any wine at this 'picnic?'" Francois asked.

"Now don't be silly. Animals and babies don't like alcohol. And neither do I." Oliver shook his head. "Who would like a piece of cake? Have some tea while I cut it up for everyone!"

Francois only sighed once again, shaking his own head. He glanced at the bottle of juice for a moment, before taking a tentative little sip. Ugh. So sugary. Apple juice he presumed. He hadn't had fruit juice since he was a child frankly, so it was almost like he was trying it for the first time again. He liked it better than milk, but not by much. Was apple juice supposed to be this sweet? He would only assume it was hand-made too, from some sort of powder. It was still a bit gritty. As he sipped, he seemed to miss the way Oliver stared at him...

* * *

The two of them commenced their picnic, with Oliver doing most of the playing it would seem. He cut the cake for them and offered imaginary biscuits as well. After their picnic, he pantomimed a game of Simon Says. He made his best attempt to engage Francois, but it would seem he was having none of it. So, he simply did the best he could. He spoke with a pandering voice, as though he were a school teacher, and guided Francois through their games. After the picnic game, Oliver decided it was time to play doctor. So, he lie the stuffed animals on their backs. "Francois, you can be my assistant alright?" he offered. "The animals are sick! So, we have to care for them!"

"Sure, sure," Francois yawned. He was bored out his mind, and his irritation was growing worse from the nicotine deprivation. His knees bounced a little as he glanced around the room. He didn't know how much more of this pretend play he could take. He needed something else to do, at least for a minute. "Why do you have so many bears?" he suddenly asked, folding his arms. Oliver stopped in his play for a moment, following Francois's eyes and looking at the bed.

"Oh, those?" Oliver asked, sitting up straighter. "Well, those are...just memories," Oliver chuckled. Francois glanced back at him. Oliver had a slightly wistful look at his face, confusing him greatly. He was about to ask what he was getting so silly over when Oliver suddenly snapped back to attention. "Erm, no matter!" he said. "I don't feel like talking about it right now! Now them, we have some animals to take care of!" Francois raised an eyebrow, watching as Oliver quickly went back to tending to the 'patients.' Hm. He wondered if these bears would be something he would use against Oliver later on. He just had to figure out how, and what they were so important for. Somehow...

Once again, Oliver was lost in the stuffed animals, acting as a doctor as he wrapped the stuffed animals in pretend bandages, took their temperature and examined their tummies. He only involved Francois in little parts, such as for different instruments, and such. But as this went on, he kept his eyes on Francois. Waiting for something. Waiting for the right time. And finally, after a bit of patience and waiting, it finally, finally came. Francois left out a heavy sigh, and let his knees bounce a bit harder. His expression looked a bit more irritated than before, which was saying a lot. But if one looked closely enough, they could see a hint of worry in his eyes. Oliver took at as his cue~

"Now then Francois! It's time for my next patient!" Oliver announced with a clap of his hands.

"Is that right?" Francois asked half-heartedly.

"Mm-hm! And that next patient is you!" Well, that certainly got his attention.

"I thought I was playing the role of your assistant."

"You were, yes. But, I think my assistant here needs a bit of a check-up! He's looking a little pale!"

"I'd really rather not..." But, as expected, his desires were ignored. Oliver stood up, and grabbed Francois's hand, pulling him up to his feet. He was led to the bed, and rather suddenly pushed so that he landed on his bed on top of the covers. Francois grimaced, and when Oliver saw him press his legs together, he knew he had gotten him at just the right time.

"Time to disrobe, I need to check your entire body!" Oliver said, taking the zipper and giving it a tug. As expected, his hands were taken by Francois, who tried to pull him away.

"Hey now, I don't need you to check me up! Let me go," he said, pulling him away.

"Aww, what's the matter? Don't tell me you're feeling shy," Oliver giggled. "For someone who was bold enough to remove his nappy, I'd think you would be at least a little more confident." Francois froze, making Oliver's smile a bit wider. "Oh come now. Don't tell me you didn't think I would notice. I'm not that oblivious. But goodness me. Whatever are you going to do now?" Oliver asked, unable to feign concern as he was smiling too much. "You've had quite a lot to drink already. And unless my eyes deceive me, I think a certain someone needs the loo hm?"

"You're wrong!" Francois said quickly, doing everything he could to hold still and not let Oliver see his true desperation. He tried to sit up, but Oliver pushed him back down. After a bit of a struggle, Oliver pinned Francois wrists above his head.

"Why are you trying to run away? If you need to potty so badly, then I have it for you right here," Oliver giggled, looking towards the package of nappies he had on the bed.

"Why won't you let me just...?" Francois didn't finish his sentence, unsure of how to.

"Because babies are too little for the grown-up potty!" Oliver informed him with a smile. "Besides, the washroom itself is a bit too dangerous for a baby like yourself! There's water everywhere, and I have some cleaning supplies for the washroom under the sink as well. So, I had to take some extra precautions for my sweet boy." Oliver switched his hold on Francois's wrists from two hands to one and then reached into his pocket. From there, he pulled out a key. "I had to lock up all the washrooms, so my little one didn't accidentally get in there and get hurt." His smile only widened as he spoke, looking much too excited over something so mean. "Daddy has the key, and it's going to stay with daddy for now."

"What sort of sick pleasure are you getting out of this?!" Francois demanded, wanting to spit in Oliver's face.

"More then you could ever imagine~" Francois frowned angrily, and glared. Then, with a rather sudden burst of strength, he struggled and brought both fists up to collide with Oliver's nose, sending him stumbling back. Once his hands were free, he got to his feet and hurried for the door. Oliver, having recovered from the shock as quickly as he was able to, rushed over and grabbed a handful of Francois's hair as he struggled to open the door. He cried out as Oliver pulled hard on his hair, practically dragging him back to the bed. The most he struggled, the worse it hurt, leaving him unable to do much about it. He reached back for Oliver in an attempt to grab at him, but he was powerless to do so. Oliver practically threw him back onto the bed, before climbing on as well, just as Francois was trying to get back up. Some of the teddy bears fell from the bed as they sturggled against one another. Oliver climbed up on top of Francois, sitting right on his stomach to stop him from struggling. Oliver was a rather slender being, with only a tiny bit of tummy from all the sweets he liked to eat. But it was still just enough weight to stop Francois from getting up. Francois began to kick his feet and attempted to scratch at Oliver's face. But when Oliver felt him freeze up, he managed to smile past the slight tears of pain. With the way he was sitting, he could only imagine how much harder it was becoming to hold it now. He wasn't at the breaking point yet, but he ought to watch how he moved if he didn't want to have an accident.

Onc Francois had grown still, Oliver leaned forward a bit, making Francois stiffen up even more. Attached to each end of the headboard, were some special restrains Oliver had placed in for just this sort of situation. He hated to restrain his little one, but he truly didn't have much of a choice did he? Wordlessly, Oliver pulled forward a single wrist cuff, and forced one of Francois's hands up, while the other one continued to scratch and pinch at Oliver. Oliver, after a bit of a struggle, managed to wrap the cuff around Francois's slender wrist, holding it back. Then, he did the same to his other wrist, holding it up towards the headboard and cuffing it, effectively restraining him. He had some restraints on the baseboard as well, but he didn't find them too necessary right now. So instead, he settled for this. Once he was done, he continued to sit on him, just staring at him.

"What are you planning on doing now?" Francois demanded. "Huh? Are you going to hit me? Then do it already!" he said. He supposed he had expected Oliver to get angry. But instead...he teared up.

"Why would you say that?" he asked quietly. "I'm... I'm only doing this for your own good, nothing else. You're going to get hurt. I'm just holding you here for now until I know you'll be safe, that's all it is. Why don't you understand that?" What the hell was this? Another bizarre mood swing of some sort? Or just his own twisted sense of what was right? "I'll let you go once I know you're safe and won't try to run away okay? That's all it is."

"Well then you may as well keep me here forever," Francois said sarcastically.

"If...if that's what I have to do, then so be it," Oliver sniffled softly. Francois's heart dropped a bit, but he didn't say a word. "In...in any case, once you're ready to behave, you let me know okay? Only then will I put you into a nappy. You can have some time to calm down and think about what you've done for now. Think of it as a time-out."

"I'd rather piss myself," Francois sneered.

"That's your choice. But if you get my sheets all wet, then I'm afraid you'll be getting a spanking instead for not making the right choice." Francois shuddered at the thought. A grown man giving another grown man a spanking? How twisted was that? "Please make the right choice my dear. Please? I just want what's best for you." Francois found himself wondering of Oliver meant to make the right choice regarding the diaper thing or this whole punishment in general.

Once he was finished speaking, Oliver climbed off of him, and instead sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on his lap. Oliver sniffled and gently wiped his nose. When he pulled his hand away however, he was shocked to see that there was a tinge of blood on his hand. While blood wasn't something that scared him, something about seeing his own blood like that was just extra scary for him. "Blood? Oh gosh, it's blood, Francois. Look what you've done..." Oliver whimpered as he stared at the substance on his hand while feeling his scratches sting, and likely bleed as well.

"What? You think that's going to make me feel sorry for you?" Francois asked him. "It's what you deserve, I hope you know that?"

"Why are you being so naughty?!" Oliver demanded. He stood up, and he stormed over to the play area they had been sitting in before. He picked up the bottle of juice Francois had yet to finish and stormed over. "Do I have to punish you again? Because clearly, you won't see the error of your ways!" He didn't seem angry. Rather, he looked quite hysterical. He climbed back on Francois once again, and before he had to chance to even think, Oliver, shoved the nipple into his mouth, and squeezed it, forcing the medicated juice down his throat. "I'm doing this for your sake! Your sake! And you have to go and act like this? Why?! I just want to make you happy and you're not even giving me a chance! This will make you think even harder I'm sure!" Oliver shouted, forcing the juice into Francois as he squirmed. He squirmed and choked, with juice running down his chin and his cheeks, moistening the pillow under his head. "Drink it! All of it!" he demanded. As soon as it was empty, Oliver tossed it to the side and forced open Francois's mouth to look and make sure it was all gone. "Was that so hard? Was it?!" Francois couldn't answer, coughing instead, almost forcing the juice back up.

Only once he had settled did Oliver finally get up. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking and sad. "You don't leave me any choice. I hate punishing you, I really do. But I don't have a choice. Discipline is the only way to teach a naughty child if love doesn't work. I didn't have a choice." He sat on the edge of the bed again, and Francois could see his shoulder's trembling. "I didn't have a choice. God knows I didn't have a choice." He bent his head and buried it in his hands. "It hurts. It hurts so much. It all hurts. Make it stop." Francois started in shock, unsure of what he was supposed to think. Oliver was mentally ill, there was no doubt about it. But this was the first time Francois had seen it to this extent.

"I'm bleeding Francois. Daddy is bleeding. It hurts so badly. I don't like it. Please make it stop," he sobbed. He sounded so pitiful, but not a single pang of sympathy rang in Francois's heart as he watched him. This was what he deserved. "I'm so sorry. I just want to make you happy and make it better. Please make it stop. I don't want this pain anymore. Make it go away. Make it go away..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Quick note. I have recently become a Beta Reader! So, please PM me if you'd like to make a connection and share a document sometime okay? I'm more then happy to help!  
Also, this chapter contains omutsu.**

Oliver's quiet sobs and the soft creaking of the bed with each movement either men made were the only sounds in the room for some time. Internally, Francois knew he ought to say something. But what was there to be said? He wasn't going to apologize, no way! But still, listening to Oliver carry on like this made him...uncomfortable to say the least. He didn't like Oliver, but he didn't really derive any pleasure out of seeing him cry like this. Francois had planned on lying quietly and allowing Oliver to simply cry until he was satisfied. But even once the tears had stopped, Oliver did not move. He sat on the edge of the bed, his head down, and not looking at Francois. Francois's arms were beginning to ache from being tied up in this way for so long. But it wasn't the only part of him that ached...

The medicine that had been in his milk, and then the extra dose in the juice had started to take effect some time ago. But he had been left unable to take care of the pressing matters that came with it, leaving his bladder pulsating slightly. The medicine had caused his body to increase it's water production, filling up his bladder quite quickly, adding to all the liquids from before. So to say he was desperate was quickly becoming an understatement. He was able to keep his legs pressed tightly together, and move his hips a bit to attempt to ward off the feeling. And while it had helped at first, it didn't have the same effect after a while. He couldn't place much pressure on himself to make it any better, so he was left with just squirming and sighing.

"Oliver," he said, finally speaking up. "Listen. I don't know what you want from me. Do you want me to apologize? Then I'm sorry. Let me go okay?"

"Thats not it..." Oliver sniffled. "That's not it at all. You still don't understand, do you?"

"How do you expect me to understand anything when you won't stop crying?"

"I've told you time and time again! I want to take care of you, but you won't let me!" Oliver turned his head so he could look at his squirming baby. "Look at you. You're about to wet yourself, and you still won't release your pride and let me take care of you. What is so hard about that?"

"Why do you keep acting like I'm the one in the wrong? You're the one who tied me up and trapped me here!"

"Well, when you put it so harshly, then of course it sounds like I'm in the wrong," Oliver sighed, scrubbing his eyes clean. "I'm only doing this to keep you safe you know? You could get yourself lost or hurt if I let you go."

"And say that I don't? Say that I got out of here by myself just fine?"

"Then you'll still get lost and hurt," Oliver whimpered. "You'll get lost in your own bad habits, and eventually really hurt yourself, and make yourself sick. I told you already, I'm doing this for your own good. I'm afraid I can't let you go until I know that you understand that. Otherwise, you'll continue to try and escape." Oliver began to chew on the nail of his pointer finger as he continued to speak. "For all I know, you could try to run away as I sleep. That's why I have to know that you understand before I can let you go. I can't always keep an eye on you. So it scares me to know that you could disappear one day. I just can't let that happen."

"I..." Oh what was he supposed to say now? He could lie and say he would stay here. But he had a feeling he wouldn't be believed. He couldn't wait to think of a solution at this point though. His arched his back a little as he hissed in pain. It was truly becoming painful to hold it like this, and he knew he didn't have any time to wait, if he had any at all that was. He strained against the wristguard, making an awful face as he tried in vain to free himself. "Just, tell me what you need to hear from me okay?"

"I need to hear you promise you won't leave me. I need you to promise you'll stay with me. This relationship is only going to work if we both do our parts you know? I've been doing mine. Now it's time for you to do yours." He leant closer now, so he and Francois were nose to nose. Francois sank his head back farther into the pillows in response to put a little space between them. "I need you to promise you will be my baby boy. So we can both be happy."

Francois just stared, his eyes wide with surprise. And, just a bit of fear if he was being honest. Oliver's face had become deathly calm. But his eyes were filled with emotions. He was not going to back down. He was not going to let up. Francois seemed to take a bit longer to answer than Oliver would have liked. So, Oliver came even closer, placing one hand on the bed, and the other on Francois's tummy, pushed his body closer to they were hip to hip. Francois squeezed his eyes shut with a slight whimper, much unlike himself. Along with this, there was a rather audible hissing sound that came with it. It was rather brief, but it was just long enough for Oliver to know that Francois had lost control for a few moments.

"Alright, alright!" Francois gasped. "I promise!"

"That's all I wanted to hear," Oliver said softly. He took a hand off of Francois's tummy, and used it to stroke his stubbly cheek instead. "It wasn't so hard now was it baby boy? My sweet baby boy..." Francois felt his heart pound as his legs began to tremble ever so slightly.

Then, just like this morning, it was almost as though someone had flipped a switch in Oliver. He sat up again, removing his hand, and he gasped softly. "Oh my goodness! My poor baby, you're going to go potty all over yourself! Let's get you into a nappy shall we?" he said, standing up, his tone clearly showing just how urgent the situation had become. If Francois hadn't been at the risk of wetting himself, he more than likely would have pulled a face at him. But he truly couldn't right now.

"Pl-please hurry," Francois managed to say, despite how humiliating it was for him. But he truly needed Oliver to pick up the pace and not fuss so much.

"Yes of course! Ah, just a second!" Oliver hurried to the foot of the bed where he had the changing supplies. They had been knocked off the bed in Francois's struggle, so he had to grab at them first. He got on his knees and felt under the bed for the powder. "Blasted thing, where did you go...?" Oliver huffed as he hunted for it. Francois wanted to shout at him to leave it. But he was in no position at this point to shout orders. Oliver snatched up the powder and came back with the supplies he needed, just as Francois began leaking once again. His pajamas were already quite wet, and he could feel them sticking uncomfortably to his skin. And yet his bladder still felt as though it was full to bursting. Oliver unzipped the pajamas, struggling a little to remove Francois's legs from them. Francois helped the best he could, pulling his legs out of the pajamas as best his could. Francois defiantly looked quite awkward, lying on top of the pajamas now, with his arms still in the sleeves, and cuffed above his head. But it hardly mattered at this point.

Oliver grabbed a new nappy and slid it under Francois's bottom. Francois had been hoping Oliver would tape it up right away so he could go. But of course he didn't. Instead, Oliver unscrewed the powder top and began to sprinkle it in, with the nappy still unfolded under his bottom. "You're kidding..." Francois quivered.

"Well of course not! I am not going to do things only part way no sir! Give me just another moment so I can-" Oliver didn't get to finish his sentence at that point. Francois gave an audible gasp as his bladder contracted one more time. Oliver gasped as well when he saw pee was slowly starting to dribble out again. Oh bother, he couldn't wait at all could he? Oliver dropped the bottle of powder, ignoring how it got onto the sheets, and pulled up the front of the diaper. Oliver just barely made it in time, as Francois managed to get a bit of urine down the front of Oliver's shirt before the front of the diaper was pulled up. Oliver didn't have time to tape it, so instead, he held it there as Francois's bladder began to violently began to release itself into the diaper. Francois groaned loudly throwing his head back. He couldn't even attempt to make it stop, he just couldn't. His stomach was killing him, making it hard for him to even think. What made it even worse was how wide Oliver's eyes were as he watched, not even attempting to be subtle about it.

"Oh my.." Oliver said softly, his cheeks a little pink. Francois wasn't able to find his voice as of yet, only able to manage out a little moan. "Poor thing, you had to go so much," he said, acting as though this were an honest accident, rather than his own doing. Francois almost wished Oliver would keep talking. Because the moment he stopped, then the only sound in the room became the sound of Francois wetting himself.

Oliver bit his lip a little. He was..curious, as funny as that sounded. With one hand holding the diaper in place, he placed his other hand on the front of the expanding padding. Ooh, it was getting so warm and full. And it was becoming heavy too. Francois cried out a bit, trying to tell Oliver to stop. But he was panting now, and had no choice but to let him. "My goodness, how big is your bladder?" Oliver giggled, glancing back up at Francois to watch his face go entirely red. "Seems we can't wait for changes when you get wet, or you'll leak for sure! Perhaps I ought to leave you in just a shirt from now on so I can always see your nappy~" Francois sucked in a sharp breath in response, annoyed and humiliated.

It took a bit longer until Francois's stream began to taper off, and then finally stop. Leaving him sopping wet, and short of breath from the feeling of release. "There we are. Doesn't that feel so much better?" Oliver giggled. "Now, let's get you changed okay? After that, I think it's nap time. You look exhausted!"

Oliver let go of the front of the nappy, letting it fall open and exposing him again. He reached over and grabbed a new diaper, making sure he had it on hand. Then, he slid the wet one out from under him, using the pajamas he was lying on top of as a towel, so his sheets didn't get wet. "My poor little darling," Oliver cooed, using the wipes to clean him up. "Don't you fret, we'll have you feeling better in no time at all! You'll feel much happier once you're in a dry nappy~" Francois didn't answer him, keeping his eyes on the ceiling as his face burnt with humiliation.

"Are you feeling a bit embarrassed?" Oliver asked. "It's okay silly, there's nothing to be embarrassed about! All babies use nappies don't they? You're no exception~ Babies can't use the potty all on their own!"

"Please shut up," Francois sighed. God, he wished he could disappear right this moment.

"Now now, that's not very nice," Oliver giggled. Once he was finished wiping Francois off, he placed the soiled wipes into the wet diaper, and pulled it out from under him, balling it up and taping it shut. Then, he slid the new one under him, sprinkled it with powder, and taped it up. He did it with a lot of ease, as though he had done this many times before. Perhaps he had been preparing for this, making sure he knew the ins and outs of diaper changing before he brought Francois here... "All done!" Oliver praised. "There we go now, that wasn't so hard now was it?" he cooed, tickling Francois's tummy. He wasn't a very ticklish man, unlike Oliver. So all he got in return was a little squirm.

When it was clear he wasn't going to get a laugh out of Francois, Oliver grabbed his pacifier instead and popped it into his mouth. "Now then, I'm going to undo the wrist cuffs for now. I need to get you changed. Your footie pajama are too dirty to wear to bed now! See, and this is why babies need nappies!" Francois mumbled something back, but it was extremely hard to understand back the pacifier. So, he didn't bother to decipher it. Oliver crawled up to the head of the bed and undid the wrist cuffs one by one. "There, isn't that better?" Olier said with a soft smile. "Now then, let's get you all changed~"

* * *

Francois was right back where he started again, lying on his back in that big crib from before. Oliver had been kind enough to leave off the gloved this time. But he had dressed Francois in a dark-blue onesie, with the ends of his nappy sticking out so obviously from the leg-holes. Oliver was knelt down, one hand sticking through the bars, and patting Francois's chest. Francois had been offered a stuffed animal to nap with, but it had quickly been rejected. Francois had also wasted no time in kicking off the blankets he had been tucked into out of bitterness. Oliver hadn't tucked him back in though, letting him lie still instead. It was his own fault if he grew chilled during his nap. "Hush little baby don't say a word. Daddies gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird won't sing, daddy's gonna buy you a golden ring~" Oliver sang sweetly, hoping to sooth Francois to sleep.

After a bit of this, Francois rolled onto his side instead so his back was to Oliver. It didn't seem to deter Oliver however, as he simply began to rub Francois's back instead. "When you wake up baby, we shall have a lovely time together. You shall have your lunch. And then, if you are good, I'll take you to the garden. We can spend some time their together and play amongst the flowers." Francois ignored him. "It will be such fun. It's been such a long time since I've had anyone to see my garden. It's not too grand I'm afraid, but I'm still quite proud of it. I've been growing lilies these days. Perhaps we could gather a bundle to use around the house hm?" Oliver giggled softly. "Think of it as an activity as well as a little chore. My little ones cannot spend all their time playing without any work. But don't you worry. I won't make your tasks too difficult." Again, Francois didn't answer.

"Hm. I do hope you don't decide to give me too much trouble little one. Daddy has some other punishments in mind if you choose not to behave..." Francois certainly didn't want to find out what those punishments were... He curled in his shoulders and nodded, even though he didn't turn to face Oliver. "Splendid! I'm glad we understand one another~" Francois felt Oliver's hand leave his back. "Well, I should probably leave you to rest hm? Daddy is simply talking your ear off at this rate! Sleep tight little one!" He heard footsteps padding across the room, the nursery door open, and then close again. Then, just a second later, the click of a lock. Damn. Escape would not be easy...

Francois turned over and sat up, facing outside the bars of his crib. This room was so sickeningly sweet, he could just vomit. Oliver claimed he had Francois's best intentions in ind. But it was clear to see that Oliver was only thinking about himself. He pressed his forehead against the bars of the crib, gripping tightly to the wooden finishing. He had to get out of here. But how? The door was locked tight, and he had a good feeling that the window was too. This crib was so tall, that he doubted he could climb out. And when he attempted to pull the bars down, he found that he wasn't able to. Were they locked in position? Oliver truly had thought this all the way through, hadn't he? He was stuck. Gripping the bars, Francois puled himself to his feet. He was a head taller than the bars, with the top coming up to his chest. MAYBE he could swing his leg over if he tried. But he could already tell he would likely injure himself or pull a muscle in the process. Was it worth the effort? Especially when he knew that if he were to be caught, the consequences would be nightmarish. Did he want to risk it? As he bent over the crib, he could hear the nappy crinkle against his bottom.  
Yeah. Anything would be better than this. Including a torn muscle.

Francois tried lifting his leg. But the thickness of the diaper made it too hard to lift it up high enough. He tried pulling himself up instead, climbing the bars so try and vault himself over them. He knew he was likely to face-plant onto the floor in the process. But it hardly mattered. After he escaped the crib itself though, then what? He supposed he could check the window, see if it was locked. If that didn't work, he could attempt to pick the lock on the door. Ah, wait a moment though. Oliver had locked it from the outside right? So, he doubted he could unlock it from in here could he? Damnit! If all else failed, he could barricade the door, break the window, and escape. That could work right? At this point, it was the only choice he had left!

With a heave, he pulled himself up and over the bars. As expected though, he did not have an easy landing. It was like his body was a lever. Once he was up, and his feet were on the bars, his upper body tilted forward, and he fell right out of the crib. His face hit the ground, and a wave of pain radiated through his nose. He knew it wasn't broken. But it was painful! Francois sat up, holding his nose tight. He didn't feel any blood at least. But he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised...

He didn't take a moment longer to sooth himself before getting to his feet. He rushed over to the window. Well, as quickly as he could anyway. This thick diaper made him waddle quite a bit... He grabbed the sill and attempted to lift it. But as expected, it was locked. He made a few attempts to undo the lock. But nothing. Right, next plan. He went back to the door and juggled the knob a few times. But as expected, it barely moved. With a frustrated growl, he hit the door once with his hand before shaking his head. Well, he supposed his only option at this point was...well, breaking the window somehow. He didn't want to have to do something like that, but he feared he had no choice! Before that though, he was going to have to barricade the door. Grabbing the dresser closest to the door, he began to pull at it, dragging it little by little to the bedroom door. Once he was satisfied, he hurried across the rom and got the changing tabel as well, pulling it as hard as he could. It was proving to be quite heavy however. Too heavy to drag. So, he emptied the bottom shelve of the diapers, wipes, powder, and lotions to lighten it up. Once it was light enough, he dragged it to the door as well. Would that be enough? He sure hoped so.

Once he was satisfied, he went back to the window, examining the glass. Just a few hard taps could break the glass, so long as he used enough force. What could he use to break is anyhow? After some more thought, he grabbed the bigger bottle of powder from the ground where he had thrown it. He took a breath. And then, he began to pound it against the glass with as much force as he could manage. Again and again and again, he pounded the bottle. But it was not breaking. Why was it not breaking?!

As expected, the noise he made was quick to alert Oliver. He could hear the doorknob start to juggle, but he ignored it. "Francois? Young man what in heavens name are you doing in there?!" He could hear the door unlock , and then Oliver attempted to open the door. But as expected, he could not open it past the barricade. "Francois?! You open the door this instant young man! You promise! You promised you weren't going to try and run away! Are you breaking your promise?!" Francois continued banging away as Oliver grunted heavily, as he pushed hard against the door. He was able to move the dresser somewhat, and reach into the room through the door. "Naughty naughty baby!"

It was like a scene from a horror movie as Francois tried to escape. But it was clear to him that either this window was shatter-proof, or that this bottle was simply not going to be enough. Oh God. Well, what now?! What was he supposed to do now!? "Daddy will forgive you if you open the door now! I won't punish you so terribly! Just please open the door!" He could hear Oliver was starting to sob again as he pushed against the door. The dresser was starting to move once again, just enough for Oliver to get his shoulder in as well as his arm. Francois wondered if he ought to try and push the door shut against his shoulder. He could seriously injure him that way if he did. That could teach him a lesson...  
As a last form of defense, Francois twisted open the top on the bottle and flung it at Oliver, spraying powder all over the room and Oliver. Oliver gasped and sputtered in response, retracting his arm to wipe the baby powder away. Francois rushed back to the door and pushed it closed.

Oliver began to bang against the door, sobbing and begging for Francois to open the door. He sobbed as though he had been truly offended by Francois actions. Francois looked around the room, trying to find something, anything he could use to get out! At this point though, the only escape was through the door. Perhaps he had to fight Oliver to get out...

He picked up a bottle of baby oil, intending to use it to beat Oliver over the head. Then, he slowly approached the door. Now or never...  
Francois pulled the changed table away, making it easier for Oliver to push against the door, pushing the dresser away. Francois raised the bottle over his head, ready to beat Oliver with it. After some pushing, Oliver staggered in. His face was still white with powder, and his eyes were filled with tears. "You promised..." Oliver said sadly, staggering closer to Francois as he backed away. "You promised me you wouldn't try to escape. You promised you would be a good boy!"

"Stay away! I'm leaving this place!" Francois warned.

"You didn't hold your promise..." Oliver sniffled. "I'm sorry. But this means I have to discipline you..." He placed his hands over his mouth with a sob, as though the idea of punishing him was the worst thing in the entire world. "You'll never learn your lesson if I don't."

"I told you to get away! I'm not going to stay!"

"You're scaring me baby boy. Please put that down..." But of course, neither of them relented. They stared each other down for a moment, waiting to see who would move. He hated doing this but...he had to. With a cry, Oliver rushed forward, tackling Francois around the waist and getting him on the ground. There was a struggle between them with Oliver getting a few whacks to the head in the process, nearly knocking his light out. But, Oliver prevailed, sitting on top of Francois and wrenching the bottle out of his hand. He threw it to the side with an angry sob.

"I've had enough!" Oliver wept. "I'm doing my best and you won't listen! You leave me no choice but to punish you! I'm sorry baby but this is the final straw!" He placed his hands on Francois's shoulder, pinning him down on the ground. "Nuaughty baby boys need to be taught a lesson..."


End file.
